


pressed to your cheeks

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, im so sorry, pretty much pointless and 100 percent self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:03:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4327899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis bang in the copy room at work. Certain things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pressed to your cheeks

**Author's Note:**

> pounded this out for fun while taking a break from writing a longer fic...this is really dumb and pure self-indulgence, jsyk
> 
> fun story: i wrote this at work and i accidentally pasted the whole thing into an e-mail i was about to send to a colleague. good thing i didnt send it or i wouldnt be alive rn
> 
> u can find me on tumblr @ antilarry!!

"Oi, quit breathing on my neck."  
  
"Oops. Sorry." Harry covers his mouth with his hand, eyes wide and apologetic.  
  
Louis rolls his eyes, silently endeared, and tugs Harry's hand away. "There's no need for that. Now come on, focus on the mission and stop mouth-breathing."  
  
"I can't help it, there's so much tension!"  
  
They're crouched on the floor behind a cubicle, Louis kneeling, Harry hovering over his shoulder. Harry's breath hits Louis' neck again, warm and damp, and Louis tries not to squirm.  
  
"Harry, I swear to god--"  
  
"I see him," Harry hisses, interrupting him. "Get ready."  
  
Louis shuts his mouth and nods. They watch intently as Liam, looking neat and pressed in his suit, approaches his cubicle across from where Harry and Louis are hidden; the timing for this has to be precise. Liam gets to his desk and puts his bag on the floor. Louis and Harry wait with bated breath. Liam pulls his chair out and starts to sit down.   
  
Just as his bottom is about to make contact with the seat, the chair suddenly rolls out from under him, and he lets out a startled cry as he falls, landing hard on his ass.  
  
Louis cackles loudly, the other end of the string he'd tied to Liam's chair in his hands, and gives Harry a high-five.  
  
"What the hell, you two," Liam groans, wincing from the floor.  
  
"Did you get that, Niall?" Louis asks. Niall gives him a thumbs up from where he's stationed, iPhone tilted down towards Liam.  
  
"I hate you all," Liam says.  
  
"Sorry, Li," Harry tells him, grinning and extending his hand to help him up. Liam takes it and hisses as he stands up, rubbing at his bum.   
  
"You guys better not have done anything to that ass of his," Sophia calls from the front desk, her hand covering the mouthpiece of the phone she's holding up to her ear.  
  
"It's fine, babe," Liam says at the same time Louis says, "It'll never be the same again, I'm afraid."  
  
"Hey, Liam," Harry chimes in, and he has that  _look_  on his face. "Are you experiencing any…Payne?"  
  
Everyone looks at him silently.  
  
"Anyway," Louis says. "That's one more point for the Dream Team, Liam. You better step your shit up."  
  
"Please," Liam scoffs. "Soph and I got you so good last week."  
  
"We really did," Sophia agrees. She tells the phone, "No, sorry, I wasn't speaking to you, ma'am."  
  
Louis ignores this. "Keep your eyes peeled, Payne. This isn't over."  
  
The main door of the office building clicks then, and they hear Simon's voice ringing through the room. In seconds, they've all scrambled back into their cubicles, tapping away at their computer keyboards as if they've been working this entire time.  
  
Simon appears a few seconds later, a cup of coffee in his hand, and a chorus of good mornings rises from the workers. Simon acknowledges them with a nod, making his way through the room to get to his office, but he walks past Liam's cubicle and then stops.  
  
"Mr. Payne," he says. Louis can practically see the sweat beading on Liam's forehead.  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"Please pick up your trash." He's staring at the string that's still tied to the base of Liam's chair. Liam sputters.  
  
"Uh, yes, of course."  
  
"Thank you." With that, Simon walks away, disappearing behind the door of his private office.  
  
Liam glares at Louis, who has his head down on his desk, snickering loudly. Louis holds his fist out to Harry, and Harry rolls his chair over to gently touch their knuckles together.  
  
What can he say? They really are the Dream Team.  
  
\--  
  
The day is coming to a close, and Louis could not be more relieved. It's Friday; he's really looking forward to unwinding over the weekend.  
  
He's just saved his last spreadsheet and is about to ask Harry if he wants to go for drinks when Simon shows up at his desk.  
  
"Louis," he says. "I'm going to need you to stay for a bit. Sales and Marketing just sent me a ton of updates and info that needs to be put into the presentation on Monday. I'll forward those to you so you can update the Powerpoint, yeah? And don’t forget to send me the scheduling spreadsheet for next month." Without so much as waiting for a confirmation, he strides off.  
  
"You're fucking kidding me," Louis groans once Simon is out of earshot. "This is like, the tenth time I've had to work overtime this month."  
  
Harry rolls his chair over to squeeze his shoulder sympathetically. "Hey, I'll stay with you."  
  
"Thanks, Haz, but you should go home."  
  
"No, really. I've got to finish logging the customer care information, anyway. It's fine."  
  
Louis smiles at him, feeling a little gooey inside. See, the thing is, he really likes Harry. He's liked him from pretty much the moment he met him at the New Hire Networking Party eight months ago. In fact, he thinks he could fall in love with Harry very, very easily. And he's pretty sure Harry likes him, too. They've been dancing around each other for  _months_ , neither of them making the first move. It's frustrating, but it's like some sort of unspoken competition between them, and Louis doesn't want to break first.  
  
He turns to his computer screen and pulls up the e-mails Simon's just forwarded him so he can start updating the Powerpoint. It's dull work, but the sound of Harry's mouse clicking nearby is comforting.   
  
The rest of the workers start trickling out, Liam and Niall and Sophia saying their farewells around six o'clock. The office grows more and more quiet, until eventually, Harry and Louis are the only ones left. Louis sighs and leans back in his chair, stretching and cracking his knuckles.  
  
"This is killing me. I'm gonna grab a tea, d'you want one?"   
  
"Yeah, I'll come with you."  
  
They head into the break room together, where Louis pulls a box of Yorkshire tea from the cupboard and drops a bag into his mug. He fills it with boiling water and sets it aside to let it steep.  
  
"Christ," he mutters, cracking his sore neck. "Harry, could you--" He stops short, because when he turns around, Harry is standing so close to him that Louis can see a whisker on his chin slightly longer than the barely-there stubble on the rest of his face.  
  
Harry kisses him. Just like that, without a word, he leans forward and presses his mouth against Louis'. It's small and soft, at least until he briefly runs his tongue over Louis' lower lip before pulling away.  
  
Louis' brain is short-circuiting. "Um. Harry. What."  
  
Harry shrugs. "I got tired of waiting for you to kiss me."  
  
"Yeah? How do you know I even want to kiss you back?" Louis demands, even though he's already pressing closer to Harry, glancing up at him through his lashes. Harry rolls his eyes.  
  
"I'm not an idiot, Louis."  
  
"Hm," Louis says vaguely. "Never forget that you kissed me first." And then he closes the final millimeters separating them, winding his arms around Harry's neck and kissing him with all he's got. Harry kisses back, slides his hands over Louis' bum and down to the back of his thighs, lifts him up and sets him down on the countertop and slips in between Louis' legs. They accidentally knock over Louis' mug, hot tea spreading over the counter and dripping to the floor, but they barely notice, lost in each other and the fervent press of their lips.  
  
Harry's lips are full and insistent as they move from Louis' lips and drag along his jaw and down his neck, making Louis shiver.  
  
"You smell good," Harry mumbles, nosing into the soft skin where Louis' neck meets his shoulder and nipping at it. Louis gasps, his fingers digging into Harry's waist briefly before slipping his hands down to squeeze Harry's bum. He tugs at Harry's hips until their crotches are pressed together, both of them making a noise at the contact. They grind into each other for a bit, breaths hitching and swallowing each others' air.

"Bet you taste even better," Harry adds lowly, almost as if he's talking to himself, and Louis feels heat rising all over his body.

"Fuck, touch me," he breathes, grabbing Harry's hand and pressing it to the bulge straining at his trousers.

Harry's eyes are dark, pupils blown, and he surges forward to kiss Louis again while his fingers make quick work of undoing Louis' fly, his fingers skimming over Louis' dick over the thin material of his boxer briefs. Louis whimpers and arches into the touch.

"More, more," he pants, and Harry shakes his head.  
  
"Not here," he says.  
  
"The fuck do you mean--"  
  
"Copy room," Harry says quickly. "There's a door."  
  
"Okay, I don't care, fuck, I just want you to touch me."  
  
Harry lets out a choked noise. Louis winds his legs around Harry's waist, and Harry quickly catches on, gripping the backs of Louis' thighs and carrying him out of the break room and into the dark copy room, slamming the door behind them. He fumbles blindly for the light switch, too preoccupied with Louis' lips and smell and  _everything_  to possess functioning motor skills, blinking rapidly when the bright white fluorescent light flickers on. He sets Louis down on the nearest available surface and yanks his trousers and underwear down.  
  
Louis gasps softly as the chilly air conditioning hits his newly-exposed skin, a noise that quickly turns into a high-pitched whine as Harry wraps his fingers around his dick. His bare ass is cold against whatever he's sitting on--and, Jesus Christ, when he checks, he's sitting on the open hood of the freaking  _copy machine_. Harry chooses that moment to twist his fingers, though, his hand picking up speed, and Louis' toes clench and he keens.  
  
"Harry," he breathes, high and needy. "Harry, Harry--" and Harry looks at him with eyes that are nearly swallowed with black and ducks his head down to suck the tip of Louis' dick into his mouth.  
  
It only takes about another ten seconds of that before Louis' thighs are clenching around Harry's head and he's coming, gasps cascading from his open mouth. Harry licks him a few more times, lazy and slow, and then releases him with a faint wet noise.  
  
Louis doesn't even give himself time to recover. He tugs Harry's face to his, kissing him furiously, tasting himself on Harry's lips, his hands working at Harry's fly. Impatient, he unzips it and shoves his hand down Harry's pants, grasping him and moving his hand hard and fast. Harry groans into Louis' mouth, and Louis bites down on his lower lip and runs his thumb over the head, and, just like that, Harry is lurching forward and burying his face in Louis' neck and coming. The hand that isn't clutching Louis scrambles to find purchase as he shudders, landing somewhere on the machine.   
  
Suddenly, there's an alarming number of beeping sounds accompanied by a whirring noise, and when Harry lifts his head up to look, startled, a bright light is filling the room, the source coming from directly under Louis' ass.  
  
"What did you do?" Louis squawks, wide-eyed, hopping down and nearly tripping and falling flat on his face because of the way his pants are bunched around his legs.  
  
Pages are spurting out of the copy machine at rapid speed, and when Louis snatches one up, he's horrified to find that it's a high-resolution, black-and-white photocopy of his ass.  
  
"Oh my god," he screeches. "Make it stop!"  
  
Harry stabs wildly at the buttons on the machine. "It won't stop!"  
  
"What do you mean?! Where's the fucking power button?"

"I don't know, I've never used this machine!"

"Neither have I!"

Seemingly having reached an impasse, all they can do is wait a few agonizingly long minutes until the machine spits out a final page and falls silent. The stack of paper on the tray is as thick as a full-length novel. A novel consisted solely of photocopies of Louis' ass.

Louis looks at Harry. Harry looks at Louis. They're both rumpled and slightly sweaty, cheeks flushed, their trousers still undone, and there are about two hundred pictures of Louis' bare ass sitting in the copy machine.  
  
They start laughing until there are tears in their eyes, bent over and breathless, leaning against each other for support.

"Oh my god," Harry wheezes. "We are so going to get fired."

"Shut up, we are not," Louis says.

Harry wipes a tear from his eye and steps closer to Louis, winding his arms around him. "At least we'd be going down together."

Louis grins fiendishly. "Oh, we'll be going down, alright." He slips his hand up Harry's shirt, leans up to press their mouths together.

The door opens.

Louis freezes, his hand halfway down Harry's pants. Harry's frozen, too, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

"Uhh," Louis says, mind a scrambled mess. "This isn't what it looks like."

"You two are disgusting." And it's  _Niall's_  voice, not Simon's, and immediately Louis relaxes.

"What the hell are you doing here, Niall? You left, like, an hour ago."

Niall says, "Well, I was going to see if I left my jacket in here, but I'll be leaving now, thanks." He backs out and shuts the door.

Harry slumps against Louis and lets out a breathless chuckle. "Christ, I thought that was Simon. My life was flashing before my eyes."

Louis doesn't say anything, just kisses him, because he can. They do that for a bit, gentle and easy, the mood broken already.

"We'd better get rid of these," Harry says, once they break apart. He picks up the stack of papers.  
  
"Wait," Louis says, darting his hand out and snatching them from Harry. "I know what to do with them." He waggles his eyebrows and folds the stack in half, tucking it under his armpit.  
  
"Can I keep one?"  
  
Louis gapes at him, but Harry looks completely serious. For some reason, Louis' stomach flutters. He takes one of the papers and leans over, tucking it in Harry's waistband with a wink.  
  
"Thanks." Harry grins at him. Louis grins back.  
  
Harry says, "So what're you doing this weekend?"  
  
\--  
  
A week later, Liam gets a package in the mail. The return address is SY & Co.  
  
Frowning and wondering what the office could possibly be sending him, he tears it open, and promptly screeches as page after page of round asscheeks fill his vision.  
  
He's going to  _kill_  Louis.  
  


 

 


End file.
